


This Feeling

by justmindy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-18 00:29:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justmindy/pseuds/justmindy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short, steamy, fluffy one-shot where Sherlock finally reveals his true feelings for Molly. Post TRF but not really spoiler-y.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> So, here it is. My very first fanfic. Short, but sweet! Thank you broomclosetkink for the wonderful beta! You're incredible!

The dark streets of London near St. Bartholomew's Hospital are not ordinarily as empty as they are tonight. You're not especially surprised, though, as the summer heat wave has seeped into the evening, making the air thick and uncomfortable. You, however, are enjoying the veritable freezer of St. Bart's morgue and the solitude of a night shift surrounded by corpses.

  You notice the fit man with the dark curls as soon as he walks in, but, as usual, he seems to pay no attention to you. You turn around, continuing your work, until he startles you by placing his hands on your waist.   

"We're alone," he breathes into your ear. You shudder as he pulls you into his hard chest, lowering his lips to your neck and moving his hand to spread his fingers across your stomach. You close your eyes as you feel your skin flush.   

He's never touched you like this; is this another fantasy? No, these fingers unbuttoning your trousers are very real. They slip into your knickers and you hold your breath. When he parts your folds with a single digit, it all comes rushing out of your mouth on a sigh and you're tired of being passive.  

With your left hand on his hip, your right reaches into those curls before you twist your head to clash your too small lips into his; he has no objection to them now. He takes your mouth hard, his tongue lashing against yours as he adds a second finger to circle your clit. Your breathing speeds up now and soon enough he swallows your cries as you cum in his strong arms.  

As your breathing calms, his kiss turns lazy, almost reverent. "How long," you manage to ask.

  He rests his forehead against yours, "Before the fall. Years. Forever. I don't know."  

You circle the shell of his ear with your thumb before gently rising on your toes to kiss him. "I love you, too." You'll ask later what finally convinced him to approach you, but for now, this is all you manage before kissing him again.   

The kiss becomes more heated and you can feel his hardness as your hands roam over his body. A quick glance tells you he locked the door when he came in.   

"Obviously, I locked it. Wouldn't want anyone to walk in, would we? Are you still taking birth control?" 

You nod, sparing only a moment to wonder how he knew something so personal. Everything speeds up as your lips collide again and he pulls down your trousers and pants, his following shortly after.

  He lifts you onto the counter and then he's in you and it's heaven. He pauses briefly to concentrate, then he's moving, slowly building the pace. Soon enough, he's panting as you dig your nails into his shoulders, and he moves a hand between your legs to circle your clit once again.  

"Cum for me, Molly," he pleads into your ear. "Cum for me, please." 

Your moans turn into cries and you call out his name as you fall apart around him.

  "Molly, Molly," he repeats over and over, a mantra, a prayer, as his hips lose their rhythm and he finally finds release. 

  He kisses your chin, cheeks, eyes, and nose, ultimately nuzzling into your neck as your combined heartbeats return to normal. He withdraws from you with an uncertain look in his eyes, "Molly…"  

You briefly panic; was this a one-off? 

  "It's just…" he stammered, "I wondered..." was he nervous? "Would you like to have a coffee?" These last words were rushed out really fast, like he was pulling off a plaster, afraid of the pain.

  "I'd be happy to, Sherlock." 

His smile is as bright as Christmas, and you can't stop from returning it.


End file.
